


Bottle Toss

by orphan_account



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Amusement Parks, Beaches, First Dates, Games, M/M, Metahumans, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-02
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-09-03 19:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8726494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: (Flash AU, Shklance Week Day 2) When Cold and Heatwave kidnap Pidge they demand one thing from Flash for her safe return: A Date. Shiro...is not amused.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shklance Week Day 2: Game Night
> 
> Flash AU. Shiro is Flash, Lance is Captain Cold, and Keith is Heatwave. Pidge is Cisco and thirsty for Lance's sister.

Shiro was having one of those days. Those incredibly long, incredibly tiring, endlessly frustrating days. He'd woken up late, been late for work in spite of his super speed, gotten scolded by Chief Thace, laughed at by Alfor, tracked down two wayward meta humans, stopped a mugging and then! As if that hadn't been enough, as if the universe was not satisfied by what he'd done, Pidge had gone missing. Worse she'd been missing for hours and they'd all just assumed she was taking the day off or something, right up until the stupid video had come to Allura’s blog.

And it was stupid. So stupid. He couldn't even begin to fathom what had possessed Heatwave and Captain Cold to do it but they had done it. Taken his friend and then sent him a video proclaiming they wouldn't return her until he agreed to go on a date with them.

An actual fucking date. He’d thought they were screwing around or that he'd misunderstood the message but once his shock had worn off he had to admit there weren't really a lot of ways to read the situation. The video had been...very clear once he'd calmed down enough to really pay attention.

_“Hello Flash.” Cold drawled, smiling darkly at the camera. His hood was up, casting his face in shadow, and his goggles were on. Everything in frame was bouncing and the gray concrete walls behind cold were moving, changing, as he walked towards something. “By now you've probably noticed your friend, Katie Holt, is missing. Well don't worry hero, she's safe and sound with us.”_

_The image blurred as the camera was whipped around and, when it focused again, it was to Pidge, bound to a chair with a strip of duct tape over her mouth. Her eyes were burning furiously and, when she realized she was on camera she started shouting and trying to hop around in chair. An off screen sigh was followed by a familiar_ Fwhom _! Heatwave came into the frame, holding a fistful of flame._

_The camera moved back to Cold who shook his head almost mournfully. “Now, you know Heatwave has...a temper and I’m afraid your little friend is trying his patience so! If you want her back in the same condition we took her here’s what your going to do: meet us in the last place you saw us, six o’clock, and be ready to go out.” Cold winked. “We’re taking you on a date Flash, and when it’s over you’ll get your friend back.”_

_Cold paused, looking at something off screen, then laughed. “Heatwave says wear something pretty.”_

_The camera fell, bounced as it hit the floor. Before it could focus again the lens frosted over and then ice began to creep over it._

_Shiro turned to look at Hunk as the video on Allura’s laptop went black. “They...they aren’t serious?”_

_Hunk looked at Coran who, very pointedly, hunched over his workstation without a word. Hunk made a face then clapped Shiro on the shoulder. “I think they’re serious.”_

Which brought Shiro to an construction site down by the waterfront. They’d spent the few hours up until it was time for his date trying to track where the video had come from, tracking Pidge’s phone, and trying to find something in the video that would tell them where she was. All of those efforts, much to everyone’s frustration

It didn’t help that the video had been public (this was yet another time he wished he had just told Allura he was the Flash. Then she could have just sent the video to him instead of having to make it public for him to see it.) and so now the news and the cops and every Flash Fan in the city was swarming the sites of his fights with Cold and Heatwave. Some in hopes of catching the metahuman duo and others hoping to see the Flash unmasked.

Thankfully the last place he’d seen them was here, the scene of one of Heatwave’s little 4am dumpster fires, something he’d handled quickly and quietly. It was unlikely anyone else would know anything about it or that he’d have to worry about being seen. Hopefully. Maybe.

He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket, suddenly nervous all over again. He did not want to be doing this, would have prefered running around the city looking for Pidge, but Central was just too big and, as much as he hated to admit it, Cold was good at what he did. Most of their encounters ended with the duo managing to slink off to come and terrorize him another day...and by terrorize he meant drop in at awkward points to make sarcastic comments and laugh while other metas kicked his ass.

They didn’t actually do a whole lot on the actively trying to fight him front anymore. They did still do a lot on the stealing shit front, which was...bothersome but it was honestly easier to let them do their thing. They didn’t hurt people, they kept most of their thievery to actual lowlifes and Central’s crime families and...it was just easier. Especially since they knew who he really-

“Detective Shirogane!”

He turned at the familiar voice, stomach sinking when he saw someone he knew jogging his way. It was just his luck (his terrible fucking luck) that he’d be spotted like this when he needed the exact opposite to happen. The absolute last thing he wanted to happen was for Cold and Heatwave to see him talking to someone else and think he was trying to pull something (which he kind of was. Hunk and Coran were still hard at work, hoping to get somewhere while he was on his ‘date’.)

Keith Kogane, Central City’s assistant Fire Marshal and part-time firefighter. They knew each other in passing and from a few police department vs fire department functions and from a few arson cases but they’d never hung out or anything. Just enough to know each other by name and stop for a second if they saw each other on the street and Shiro just couldn’t believe that occasional inter-department friendliness might be about to screw him over.

“Hey Keith.” He pasted a smile on his face as the younger man came to a halt in front of him. “Um. Hi. There.”

“You ready to go?” Keith asked, looking around. The construction site was near the boardwalk and Shiro could see sand and water in the distance to one side and Central’s tourist area to the other. There were people, dressed for a night out, wandering along the street, unconcerned about two men standing off on a side street.

“Go? Go wh...wait.” Shiro’s eyes widened and Keith’s expression melted into something sharp and amused. “No way. You’re...seriously? I’ve investigated Heatwave’s fires with you!” And he had to be Heatwave; Cold was a little taller than Shiro, broader in the shoulders than Keith was, and darker complexioned. Plus he couldn’t picture Keith, who was always so serious and focused, rolling out the dumb puns like Cold did.

Keith’s lips quirked up as he reached out and hooked Shiro by the elbow to steer him out onto the main road. “Yeah. Those are my favorite cases. Returning to the scene of the crime is...kind of a rush. I recommend it if you ever get into the criminal thing.”  

Shiro had no idea what to say to that so he just stared at Keith as he was lead to...wherever it was they were going. He’d never seen Keith outside of some kind of uniform so seeing him in something casual was just adding to the surreal factor. He was wearing dark jeans, frayed around the bottom and at the knees, heavy black boots, a black shirt, and black and red plaid shirt over top and his hair was pulled up into a ponytail at the top and hanging loose at the bottom. It was...he’d be lying if he said he’d never noticed Keith was attractive, and it was more apparent now, but all he could see was Heatwave.

If he thought about it, imagined Heatwaves goggles over Keith’s eyes and that hooded coat on him, hiding away his hair, he could see it perfectly. So perfectly that he couldn’t imagine how he’d never see it before.  

And firefighters did, supposedly, have pyromaniac tendencies at a higher rate than the general population. And yet it had never occurred to him that Heatwave, who literally walked around firefighter's pants and suspenders, might be a member of one of the departments. It had just seemed too obvious and yet.

He was a terrible detective, clearly.

“There’s Cold.” Keith said, raising his free hand in greeting. Shiro looked up, realizing that they were were almost at the entrance of the boardwalk, part of the meandering summer evening crowd. The world slowed down around him as he put his speed to work helping him sift through the crowd, trying to see if someone was headed in their direction, before he focused in on another familiar face.

Lance Ramon, the ‘CSI’ guy. Shiro literally saw Lance every day, was in and out of his lab fairly often, had even picked his brain about metahuman stuff. He liked him, even if he was a little loud and occasionally awkward (often awkward) and sometimes ‘too much’. Lance was the last person he would have pegged as the smarmy, sarcastic, conniving Captain Cold. Lance tripped over his own feet and used cheesy pickup lines like he breathed; Cold had thought up and put into action a plan that had ended with Shiro not just having to give up his secret identity while Cold kept his own safe and sound behind his mask, but agreeing to more or less leave the duo to their own devices as long as they didn’t hurt anyone and kept their crimes focused on people who ‘deserved it’.

But there Lance was, pushing away from the boardwalk railing in slow motion, smirking at them. Instead of his usual slacks and button down he was in tight jeans and a black t-shirt, boasting neon green pixelated Space Invaders, that stopped above his bellybutton under an oversized hoodie. There was none of the nervous energy in the way he moved that Shiro was used to seeing in Lance but, instead, the easy confidence and coolness he associated with Cold.

Shiro blinked and the world returned to normal. “I am the worst detective ever.”

Keith laughed and if Shiro had ever heard that before, rough and smokey, he would have known right away who Heatwave really was.

“Detective Shirogane, glad you could make it.” Lance said, as he slide around to his other side and put a hand on the small of his back. “Can we call you Shiro?”

“No, that’s what my friends call me.”

“Flash then?” Lance was all coy innocence, blue eyes wide and smile sweet.

“...Shiro’s fine.” He said grudgingly. “I want to speak to Pidge before we do anything else.”

Lance pursed his lips thoughtfully then looked past him at Keith who shrugged. They steered him off to one side of the path, near a milk bottle toss game.  A phone was fished out of Keith’s pants and, after a few taps, handed over to Shiro. A video call app was up and, after a few rings, a woman’s face appeared. She was kind of familiar like...she looked like Lance; brown skin, blue eyes, dark curly hair.

“Oh. Hold on.” She moved, turning the phone with her, and a moment later Pidge came into the shot. Shiro groaned.

“Pidge, is that a face mask?”

“...being kidnapped is no reason to say no to a spa trip.” Pidge sniffed, offended behind her avacado green face mask. Then, gaze darting to the side, she lowered her voice and widened her eyes meaningfully. “And Cold’s sister is super hot so uh. Take your time on your blackmail date.”

“I’m going to leave you with them.” He hissed, pointedly ignoring Lance and Keith’s laughter. Pidge shrugged then, with another look off to the side, waved distractedly before the line went dark. Shiro held the phone back out to Keith, glaring at him. “I’m leaving. Keep her.”

“Now now detective. A deal is a deal.” Lance insisted, grinning with just enough teeth to make Shiro feel like a steak in front of a starving man. “Haven’t we always held up our end of things?”

Shiro sighed then, taking a moment to pray to whatever deity might be listening to just strike him down and end his misery, nodded. Besides, just because they were treating Pidge well didn’t mean they would keep doing so. Heatwave and Captain Cold had killed before and while they’d agreed not to, and had stuck to that, who was to say what would happen if he didn’t honor a deal.

Pidge might have been willing to turn traitor for a pretty face but friends didn’t let friends stay captive because they were annoyed.

“Right, fine. Let’s do this.”

They started walking and, even though Shiro knew no one would give them a second glance (unless they noticed Keith holding his hand and Lance leaning into him, gripping his arm tightly) he still felt exposed. He was out, in public without his mask with the two most constant pains in his ass, also unmasked, walking around like it wasn’t the strangest thing to happen to him all month, which was saying something, and that just made it even stranger. And made him that much more of edge.

This was too damn easy. They had to be up to something, the other shoe had to be able to drop. They couldn’t possibly have gone through the trouble of snatching Pidge from her apartment just to wander the boardwalk with the rest of the masses.

And yet that’s what they were doing, starting with some games.

First trying to knock over milk bottles, which Keith displayed a shocking lack of aptitude for. Twenty dollars vanished in short order with nothing to show for it except for a dinky Flash keychain that Keith accepted with a twitching eye. Lance and Shiro intervened when accusations of cheating and threats to burn ‘The whole fucking park down’ started flying.

“You cannot threaten to burn everyone who pisses you off alive.” Lance scolded as he shoved Keith away from the game operator. Who had gone white as a sheet somewhere between ‘do you know what happens to a body if you take it from absolute zero to the boiling point instantly?’ and a quietly relayed description of just what happened. And was probably going to need all kinds of therapy.

“Sure I can.”

Shiro sighed and muttered a quiet apology as he walked past the operator. This was officially a really bad idea.   

The next booth, where they tried to throw darts at balloons, went about as well but without so much as a keychain. Next was a basket toss and that went...well. Shiro even offered to play the game (people were starting to stare and yank their kids away for god's sake), quietly pointing out that he sort of did things like nailing other meta humans at superspeed with actual lightning. Keith’s only answer was a wordless snarl but it said everything Shiro needed to know. Lance offered a sympathetic smile then, when Keith stomped off to attempt some ring toss, whispered.

“He wants to win you something. I told him he should have just stolen something nice before we came but he gave me some line about doing it legit.” He shook his head but there was a glimmer of exaserated fondness that made Shiro frown as Lance ambled off after his partner.

Wanted to win him something? Seriously? It was nothing but cheap stuff animals and sports junk. The last thing he needed in his tiny cramped apartment was more junk. ...won by an actual pyromaniac metahuman who had actually set him on fire before.

And was scaring all the kids.

...Even if it was kind of a sweet sentiment and, fine, Keith’s determination was sort of endearing.

When he caught up it was to find Lance had acquired cotton candy and was watching Keith line up a shot for ring toss. Shiro eyed up the bottles then the rings, determined it was virtually impossible because of the size of the rings. He stepped away, sliding just between the booths and when Keith tossed the ring he ran.

The world slowed to a crawl around him as he hopped the counter and plucked the ring from the air. He ambled over and carefully fit the ring over the center ‘top tier price’ bottle, rolling his eyes at the set up. The rings really were barely any wider than where they needed to fit over the bottles to count as a win and the plastic they were made out of had to be good for extra bouncing. Even if someone did make it the stupid things would probably bounce off.

He shot the operator an annoyed look as he went past him and back over the counter. He took the cotton candy from Lance’s fingers, coming to a halt. The ring rattled around the neck of the bottle but stayed in in place, the booths curtains ruffled and Keith’s hair was ruffled by the wind his speed caused. The operator blinked, visibly startled.

Keith glanced back at him, suspicion written all over his face. Shiro popped some of the cotton candy into his mouth, humming happily as it melted on his tongue, and tried to look at innocent as possible. He wasn’t sure how well he pulled it off considering Lance’s twitching lips and refusal to meet his eyes but Keith didn’t call him out.

Shiro accepted the, frankly tacky, Flash-themed bear Keith presented to him with a flat look that brought a smirk to the firestarter’s face. “I hate it.”

“Good.”

Lance tossed him a grin over his shoulder.

\---

They played some more games, with Shiro and Lance finally allowed to join in now that Keith had proved himself a master of rigged boardwalk games. Some time was spent in the arcade but Shiro was declared a cheater just because he happened to have enhanced reflexes and could tap the buttons and pull the trigger at speeds the game couldn’t even really respond to.

He was pretty sure they were just sore losers.

There was pizza and ice creams and corn dogs that...Shiro mostly ate alone while insisting he had a set calorie goal everyday. Which he did; superspeed didn’t run on air after all.

He kept the bear tucked under his arm as they started making the rounds at the rides and as even nice enough to not point out that rollercoasters were kind of pointless for him. In fact neither of his companions looked all that moved by the speed and height and, as Shiro watched them, he couldn’t stop the jolt of sadness that came with that realization.

What was a roller coaster when you could run at Mach 2 or conjure fire from your hands or breathe out mist at absolute zero? What was a stomach twisting drop when you’d fought all sorts of metahumans with powers that could kill and the desire to do just that?

They’d all gained some warped DNA and lost a lot in the exchange. Free time. The ability to touch other people without running the risk of giving them frostbite, at best. Control over the urge to burn things. Fun on roller coasters.

The view was nice though and he said as much as they headed back to the entrance of the boardwalk. They exchanged a look, Lance on his left and Keith on his right, but didn’t say a word.

Shiro wondered what it was like to know someone so well you didn’t need words to understand them.

He figured that’d be about it then he found himself standing next to, of all things, the carousel next. They went through the line, surrounded by kids and their parents, a lot of whom were giving them the side-eye. Shiro just ducked his head and let himself be dragged through the line by the hand while Keith and Lance talked about meeting an Uncle Rip the next morning.

Once they were up Keith swung himself up onto a unicorn and Lance pushed Shiro towards a polished gryphon. Shiro eyed in, nonplussed, then shrugged and climbed up. This wasn’t his idea of fun but it a few minutes going depressingly slow wasn’t going to kill him.

Was what he thought until Lance hopped up after him. Shiro jerked away and was about a millisecond from bolting before be remembered he was supposed to be playing along (Not that Pidge deserved his best effort!) so he settled for glaring.

Lance winked at him.

The ride attendant was treated to Shiro covered his face with his hand while Lance looped his arms around his waist, pressing so close that there was no space for air between them, and settled his chin on his shoulder. Shiro was expecting to be told they couldn't double up or something but the teen just shot them a bored look before walking off. Keith twisted around, smirking at them.

“I get next ride.”

“Hear that Shiro?” Lance breathed cooly against his ear. “Keith wants to be your next ride.”

Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s terrible and you should be ashamed.”

“Maybe you should spank me?”

The sound of the carousel music winding up saved Lance from Shiro’s biting reply. That wouldn’t have been that harsh because he was a little busy trying to remember the last time someone had been so close to him for something other than drawing blood or patching him up.

Before he’d gotten his speed, for sure. So...at least sixteen months.

And that, he told himself, was why his heart was beating so fast (even faster than the hummingbird like speed that was now normal for him) and why his mouth was dry the entire 2 minute ride. Lance’s hands didn’t roam anywhere, thankfully, but that didn’t make it not stressful. The gentle rocking of the gryphon as it rose and fell in time to the music, the feel of Lance’s deceptively well muscles body pressed again, the feel of breath wafting over his neck; it all sent a chill up his spine.

No pun intended.

He was not submitted to another go around but, instead, corralled towards a ride proudy proclaiming itself as a haunted boat ride. He and Keith settled in the front of the boat while Lance and the bear settled in the back. Right up until they were through the creaky doors that lead into the ride, plunging them into darkness. The boat rocked and shuffling sounds filled the air then who could only be Lance dropped down on his other side, forcing him so close to Keith he was practically in his lap. An arm wrapped around his waist and another draped over his shoulders.

Keith was hotter than most people, even a little warmer than Shiro was ran pretty warm himself, and Lance was cool on his other side. He let himself imagine, just for a moment, what it’d be like to be between them with less layers in the way.

And then frowned at the soda in his hand. “Did you two put something in my drink?”

“Rude.” Came from Keith’s side of the boat.

“So,” Lance said as they passed under a strobe light and a the ‘spooky’ music kicked in. “Speaking of wildly inappropriate shit.” Shiro hated himself for laughing. “This is usually the point where people start making out.”

“No.”

Lance leaned back, looking at Keith. He could feel them silently communicating behind his head and when an animatronic hag fell down before them cackling loudly and the strobes started pulsing faster, he was looking between them suspiciously.

“Okay. Switch places with Cold.”

“What? Why?” A very telling silence. “You aren’t serious.”

\---

They were serious.

Shiro was going to seeing Captain Cold and fucking Heatwave making out on the back of his eyelids every time he shut his eyes for the rest of his life.

\---

He was pretty sure they put something in his drink because there was no excuse to be that turned on by actual criminal psychopaths making out.

Very nice psychopaths who he was having an alarmingly fun time with. So much so that he found himself laughing and grinning and forgetting about the ‘Dangerous MetaHumans’ aspect more and more as the sky started to go from blue to orange to purple while they rode the ferris wheel and wandered through the fun house.

\---

“Is that. A thing you do a lot or was it just for my benefit?” Shiro asked as he picked at his funnel cake. Keith stared at him blankly for a moment then smiled slowly.

“Why, you want a repeat performance?”

Shiro glared at his soda and shook his head. “No. Just curious about all of this. Do you take people out together often?”

“Sometimes.” Keith confirmed. “Not as much lately.” He held up his hand and a flame flicked to life just long enough to make his point before Keith shut his hand and snuffed it out. “But it’s always on the table; we’re...flexible.”

“Flexible.” Shiro bit his lip, heat creeping up his cheeks, before nodding. “That is. Good to know. I guess.”

Keith’s hands slid across the table. They skimmed Shiro’s, leaving lingering heat, before hovering over the funnel cake. The sound of oil crackling filled the air as the food was warmed back up and then Keith leaned back in his seat, attention turning out towards the ocean.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

“What about Lance?”

“He’ll follow the heat.”

When Lance did find them they were walking on the beach, trailing the edge of the water when it washed up against the sand. It lapped up around Keith’s bare feet, sizzling and steaming, but Lance carefully avoided it, dancing further away anytime the water seemed like it might come close enough. He didn’t try to touch Shiro either, hovering just close enough that he could feel the chill coming from him. Shiro wondered but didn’t ask; Lance’s breath turned to frosty mist even though it was a warm summer night and black gloves covered his hands and that was enough of an explanation.

\---

“You coming home with us?”

“No.”

“You sure? Keith’s gonna warm me back up to human temperatures. It’s gonna be _hot_.”

“Lance. No.”

“Please tell Pidge to come back to the lab when you let her go.”

\---

He did kiss them goodnight.

He didn’t even attempt to justify it to himself.

First he kissed Keith (with minimal cajoling on their parts) long and slow with the smaller man pressed tight to him and hands holding his hips. He reeled at the feeling of heat rushing through his body and just from the kiss in general. Then there was Lance with a quick barely there brush that managed to make him shudder and gasp. He had to vibrate himself after to heat back up; barely two seconds of contact and he felt like all the warmth had been leached out of him.

He doubted someone who wasn’t Heatwave or a speedster could take it.

They left, probably in a stolen car and ugh he literally the worst cop ever, and he hung around by the beach until Pidge called to let him know she was safe. Then stayed longer, questioning his life choices.

 

**Author's Note:**

> And then Lance and Keith go time traveling and Lance dies heroically. ...don't look at me like that, that's what happens to Cold and Heatwave. Not my fault.


End file.
